We opened our shop a year and a half ago, but this is our first year working the Dallas Farmers Market. I used to help my mom with these for fun, but that’s completely different than running your own business. Let’s just say, it’scrystalclear we’re amateurs. I suppress a cringe at the bad pun in my head as a customer approaches the booth.
“Hi—” I start, but Amber cuts in and extends her hand to the woman.
“Amber Guthrie. How may I help you?” She shoots me a cocky grin, making me chuckle.
Majoring in business at the University of North Texas, Amber is definitely the entrepreneurial one. I prefer to focus on creating the products and seeing where they take us. We’re a perfect match.
I start rearranging the crystals displayed on the right half of our booth when my phone dings.
Benji: So, technically speaking, I can’t get in trouble for smoking all the pot in the back since I’m the owner, right?
I laugh, shaking my head. It’s only been three months since Benji opened up his own dispensary a few miles from his house, so he likes to text me and Amber often with questions.
I’m about to respond when Kimmie bumps my hip with her own.
“Here,” she says, handing me the strawberry smoothie she picked up five booths down.
I grab it and gulp down the ice-cold liquid, in desperate need of relief from this crazy humid Texas heat.
“Whoa, slow down there, Sunshine. You’d think you’d be used to our summers by now.”
“I think I’m gonna need a few more years for that,” I mumble between slurps. “How’s yours?”
She takes a sip of her watermelon drink and shrugs. “I mean, it’s not bad ... for a farmers market smoothie.” She winks, and I narrow my eyes suspiciously.
When she heard about our fiasco last weekend—our booth collapsed in the middle of helping customers—she insisted on tagging along this time to help out. I think it’s a cover. She says she’s selflessly sacrificing herself for us, but in reality, she’s spent all day shopping at the other booths.
“You love it.”
“Love is a strong word.” She looks away, still sipping through her straw.
I open my mouth to tease her when her phone dings, and she digs it out of her purse. She reads the text.
“Good Lord,” she moans, typing back. “I swear, your dad can be so clingy. I told him and Mom to pick the movie tonight, but he won’t stop bugging me about it.”
I chuckle, and her lips curve as she hitssend. Last year, Tim implemented a mandatory family night every Sunday. Movies, popcorn, cheesy board games—the works. Kimmie can whine all she wants, but she has never missed a single one. None of us have.
Scanning the market, I squint, my eyes catching on a familiar face.Henry?His peppered hair is freshly cut in a crisp style, but that’s not what throws me off. My lips part as I take in his white dress shirt and ... are those khaki shorts? I smile, taking another sip of my drink. I’ve gotten used to seeing him when I visit Amber, where I usually eavesdrop on his calls with Joshua, but a farmers market? This is a first.
“What is it?” Kimmie says, slipping her phone back into her purse and glancing around.
I nod toward Henry, noticing Cheri at his side inspecting a bundle of daisies.
“Ha. At least I’m not the only one being tortured today. That reminds me, did you hear about Hunt?”
My spine straightens. “What about him?”
“Hello? That he’s moving back.”
I almost choke on my drink. “W-what? Like, you mean, to Texas?”
She rolls her eyes, but they glitter with humor. She’s enjoying this. “My mom said he’s transferring to the University of Texas to finish his degree there.”
My heart leaps to my throat, my breath shortening. I’m standing outside, surrounded by fresh air, yet, somehow, I’m running dangerously low on oxygen.
“Seriously, who would’ve thought?” Kimmie continues, oblivious to my pending near-death experience. “Bad boy Hunt leaving all of us in the dust. Just goes to show, you can’t judge a book by its cover, right? Oh, my god, I wonder what he looks like now. All educated and smart and stuff ...” She lets out a dreamy sigh that makes me want to shake the stars out of her eyes, but air ... I need air ...
She stares at me, her brow furrowing. “You weren’t lying. This heat must really be getting to you. You feeling okay?”
